


And all the people say (You can't wake up, this is not a dream)

by SquaresAreNotCircles



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Steve McGarrett/Catherine Rollins, Post-Episode: s09e10 Pio Ke Kukui Po'ele Ka Hale (When the Light Goes Out the House is Dark), Some Fluff, Trope Subversion, Undercover as Married, based on/inspired by 9.11 spoilers, harry langford and junior also make brief appearances, technically 'undercover as married with your ex but then your performance is critized by your crush'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquaresAreNotCircles/pseuds/SquaresAreNotCircles
Summary: The first thing Steve does when he hears a car pull up outside is reach for his gun. The second thing is peer through a rip in the curtains just in time to see Danny get out of the driver’s seat.His heart doesn’t skip a beat, exactly, but it damn sure does something.In which there is angst, but also closure, and perhaps the start of something new. Or: In which Danny has some advice for Cath on how to flirt with Steve.





	And all the people say (You can't wake up, this is not a dream)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, full disclosure: I have no clue what will actually happen in 9.11 (because it won’t air for another few weeks as of writing this) and I only watched 9.10 after writing 75% of this fic. It might not be very accurate. I will freely admit that every bit of plot in here is me bullshitting my way through it.
> 
> I have, however, seen the 9.11 spoilers (most notably the ones about Cath’s return and about Steve and Cath going undercover as a married couple) and read the fan outrage on Tumblr, and all of that somehow connected with a fic I’ve been trying to write for ages but that just wouldn’t come out quite right, and now there’s this. It’s not the fic I was planning, but it’s kind of that, and it’s kind of just a very early ‘dear god please no let me fix this for you’ towards the writers for possibly/probably trying to sell reheated bits of Steve/Cath to us in the next episode.
> 
> Honestly, this may be a tiny bit messy (read: it’s possible this contains so many long sentences you start to wonder if it consists entirely of one unending sentence and you’ve been kidding yourself into seeing full stops every now and then because you just want them so bad and the commas are making you dizzy), but I had FEELINGS and they needed to go somewhere, and since this is finished now, I might as well post it.
> 
> The title is a line from the song Gasoline by Halsey!

The first thing Steve does when he hears a car pull up outside is reach for his gun. The second thing is peer through a rip in the curtains just in time to see Danny get out of the driver’s seat.

His heart doesn’t skip a beat, exactly, but it damn sure does something.

Then more people pile out of the car, almost all at once: Junior, which Steve expected, Harry Langford, which is a nice surprise, and finally Catherine. By that point, his heart is just plain racing.

He makes his way outside and down the porch steps and only then realizes he still has the gun in his hand. He loosens his grip somewhat, scans the edges of the perimeter, and tucks the gun in his waistband for the time being.

“You okay?” is the first thing Danny asks him, skipping the greetings entirely. Usually Steve would pretend to be offended by that, but he’s too tired. He’s been tired ever since that hitman walked into his kitchen, and now that Cole and Joe are dead it feels like he may never shake this heavy feeling.

“Yeah,” he says, and it would be a lie, except it’s so transparent that it barely counts. He has a full beard, there’s a cut on his forehead that hasn’t quite healed yet, they’re surrounded by the blackened shells of different vehicles, and the building behind him has enough holes to resemble an enormous block of Emmentaler far more than a house. He has been here for a couple of days, but he only fixed and cleaned what was necessary to survive in relative comfort.

Catherine is shaking her head. “Steve, oh my god,” she says, before he’s suddenly enveloped in a hug. 

He wraps his arms around her, too. “What are you doing here, Cath?”

“I caught wind of a situation involving off-duty SEALs through one of my CIA contacts and I had a hunch, so I called Danny. He told me he was on his way to you, so I took the next flight.”

That makes sense, mostly. It’s still unreal to suddenly have her in his arms. Unbidden, his mind replays Joe’s words about not waiting too long to be with the right person.

“I heard about Joe,” Catherine says. It’s an unpleasant jolt, like she can read his mind. “I’m so sorry, Steve. I know he meant a lot to you.”

He breaks away. He scans the horizon again while he answers, his voice a little too rough. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He receives backslapping hugs and words of solidarity from Junior and Harry, and then there’s Danny, right in front of him. Steve would be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about this moment over the past few days, holed up on his own in the middle of nowhere in Montana. He hopes he does a passable approximation of a smile.

“You and I,” Danny says, not smiling back, but raising a hand to poke a finger in the center of Steve’s chest, which is far better, “are going to have a talk, once again, about your tendency towards the insane and idiotic.”

“Okay.” Steve nods, almost eager, because he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care in the least, he just wants-

Danny must have been expecting the hug, but he probably hadn’t taken into account with just how much enthusiasm Steve would latch onto him. They stumble a little, four-legged and awkward. Then Danny gets his feet back under him and Steve stops overbalancing them, and it works.

“It’s alright,” Danny is saying, so low that Steve is probably the only one that can hear him. He’s not sure if Danny even knows he’s speaking out loud at all. “I’m here, I got you. It’s fine. I’m sorry about Joe, babe.”

Steve is glad he still has his chin tucked on Danny’s shoulder and his back turned to the rest of his friends, because it means nobody gets to see him blink a tad too quickly. He indulges himself in the hug for another moment before he lets go of Danny.

Danny rubs the side of his neck. “Your beard tickles, you caveman.”

Steve’s second attempt at a smile comes ever so slightly easier. Everything suddenly seems ever so slightly easier, if he’s completely honest. “How was Gracie’s college tour?” 

“Gracie’s college tour?” Danny’s hands fly up, going for the dictionary definition of incredulous. “You want to hear about Gracie’s college tour now? It can’t wait until we’re in a place that looks less like it’s been shot to hell?”

“No, it can’t,” he says, utterly honest.

Danny keeps up the disbelieving act, but he does launch into a full report while Steve leads him and the rest of them into what’s left of the house. Steve acknowledges Danny’s steady flow of words for the kindness it is. There will be time for Danny to air his frustrations later, but right now, Steve needs this, and then he needs them all to work together to formulate a plan, and then he needs to get the son of a bitch that killed five of his friends so he’ll finally have a shot at getting something resembling a decent night’s sleep again.

*

Danny keeps pulling on the collar of Steve’s suit and adjusting Steve’s bow tie. Steve knows he looked just fine before – he’s already done all these adjustments himself in the hotel bathroom mirror, five minutes ago – but Danny has probably realized that doublechecking Steve’s wire for a third time might constitute as overkill. He’s already inspected the results of Steve’s shave, too.

“Remind me again why the hell I’m letting you do this?” Danny asks.

Steve has half a mind to bat Danny’s hands away, but he kind of likes the fussing. It’s something that’s always been there, even if it’s turned up to eleven right now. He’d never say it out loud, but it’s as reassuring as it is humbling to have someone this clearly worried out of his mind for him. 

“You’re not _letting_ me do anything,” Steve says, just to be contrary. Starting an argument is often the best way to distract Danny and therefore calm him down a bit, even if it means he starts yelling. It’s counterintuitive, but also proven to be effective. “I’m a grown man, Danno. I can make my own choices.”

“Yeah?” It’s working. Danny’s voice is already rising in volume. “You sure about that? Because sometimes, like when you decide to hide out in a house in the middle of nowhere and let the bad guys come to you with almost no backup, I have some doubts about your choice-making abilities.”

“Hey, I made that choice very well. I never said the choice itself was good, per se.”

Some of the consequences that followed said choice flash through his mind, but he ignores it and locks those feelings away for later – or maybe never, if he can help it, but certainly not now. They have a job to do now.

For Joe.

Danny sighs loudly, annoyed. He starts to turn to move away, but Steve grabs his wrist. “Hey. I love you, buddy.”

It’s maybe a little too earnest; it’s definitely far too raw. Danny frowns and his eyes search Steve’s face. For a long moment, he looks like he might object, and Steve is bracing himself to keep from showing just how much that might break something inside him that’s already been stretched too thin for too long, by now. 

Then Danny’s frown softens and turns into a smile. It’s a little sad, a little tight, but it’s there. “I love you, too,” he says. 

He probably means for it to sound gruff, but Steve knows him far too well to overlook the untold expanses of fondness under it. It makes him grin in a way that Danny would absolutely tell him looks goofy, under different circumstances.

“Hey, Steve,” Cath calls, when she exits the bathroom, looking fully ready to party it up with the kind of people whose kids’ first word is yacht. “I have something for you.” She’s holding up an object that’s silver and very small. For just a second he thinks it’s a bullet.

It’s not, of course. It’s a ring, and it matches the one Cath is already wearing.

Danny huffs a laugh while he pulls his wrist free from Steve’s grip. “Go enjoy married life, babe. I hope you have better luck with it than I did.”

*

The op is as follows: they need intel on Omar Hassan’s current location and their best lead is a wealthy businessman that Hassan has some monetary ties to. The guy has been connected to criminal investigations before and there’s a good chance he’s guilty, because even just a simple Google Maps search shows that he’s clearly afraid of something. His house is built like a fortress, guarded by a personal army, and located far enough outside Hawaii that the Governor’s carte blanche doesn’t hold much sway here, which is a problem. Steve’s first impulse is to find a shark tank somewhere or maybe a nice roof for lack of an ocean close by, but everyone he’s working with had objected to that, so Steve had allowed Danny to talk some sense into him.

The new plan is that Steve and Cath will attend their target’s wife’s birthday party, posing as a married couple. The guest list is long enough that there’s very little danger of them running into the wife and getting caught out as imposters, but they have to keep an eye open. The other difficulty is getting the husband alone for some polite conversation (or not so polite – Steve is holding out hope that he’ll refuse to talk), but if need be, they can fabricate some reason to separate him from the rest of his party.

Danny, Junior and Harry are outside in a very cliched surveillance van, listening in from the other end of the comm system. They’re also there for backup if everything goes FUBAR, which, as Danny has pointed out four times – Steve kept count – is a very smart precaution to take when executing crazy plans.

When they enter the house, they’re not the very first to arrive, but still on the early side. Catherine looks stunning, pure and simple, in her strapless dress and with her hair falling around her shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t cut a bad figure himself, despite the visible mark on his forehead, and some tiny part of him, tucked away somewhere in the back of his brain, can appreciate all of this. It’s been a long time since he’s taken Catherine anywhere, but he used to like showing her off.

They make a round to map out the rooms mentally, relaying relevant information to the rest of the team. When they’ve circled back around to the entrance, they take a seat at the bar and receive very expensive looking champagne glasses. From this new vantage point, they have the best view they can get over the rest of the party. It’s spread out over multiple rooms, but this one has the front doors on one end, some scattered tables on the other, and one of the party’s three bars to one of the sides. Their target hasn’t made an appearance yet, but it’s a safe bet that he and his wife will eventually come to this room to greet their guests.

“How are you doing with the security cameras?” Catherine asks. Steve keeps his eyes on the crowd, not even sure if he’s actively looking for a threat or if it’s just habit.

“Your timing is impeccable. We have a visual,” Harry reports. It’s good to have him on their team. He doesn’t just look and sound like James Bond, but he also has the computer skills to go along with it, as proven by his hack of the camera feeds in the complex.

“Steve, we can see you,” Danny adds, unnecessarily.

Steve takes a sip of his champagne. While he has the glass raised to his lips, he extends his middle finger, very briefly, like the dirty cousin to a fancy English teacup pinky.

Danny’s gasp sounds very dramatic. “That is rude, Steven.” 

“Just checking the resolution.” Steve hopes his grin can be interpreted as random smug self-satisfaction from the kind of guy that would attend this type of party voluntarily, because he’s not quick enough to force it down.

“Sir,” Junior says, “the target has entered through a side door and is on the move. He has his wife on his arm, but they’re coming towards you.”

“I have eyes on them,” Catherine says. Steve doesn’t need to follow the direction of her gaze to find the couple, because they’re very clearly the middle point that every person in the room seems to be circling around.

Steve swallows the rest of his champagne all at once out of frustration. “We’re never going to get them alone like this.”

Catherine puts a hand on his arm. It’s probably meant to be calming, but it’s her left hand, the one with the ring. He has to blink away a flash of dizziness at the memory of how badly he wanted to see exactly that at one point in his life, contrasted sharply against the awareness of how trapped and wrong it makes him feel now. The knowledge that it’s all a ruse doesn’t help as much as it should.

“Let’s just wait for a bit,” Catherine tells him, voice carefully pitched to be soothing. It’s a sweet gesture, but it makes his skin crawl even more. “See what happens.”

He manages a nod and she takes her hand back.

*

Forty minutes later, there’s not much progress on the finding-a-good-moment-to-approach front, but at least the flow of new guests arriving seems to have stemmed somewhat. That’s a sign that inspires hope – there’s far more of a chance that husband and wife will split up once they’ve greeted all the arrivals eager to shake their hands.

Steve and Cath have relocated themselves to one of the tables. They’ve found one relatively in the back of the room, far enough from the entrance that their view won’t be blocked by people standing around them, but close enough to the buzzing heart of the party that they’re not sticking out in their effort to hide. Steve has a perfunctory arm resting on the back of Cath’s chair, and he’s on his third glass of champagne while Cath is still nursing her first.

Nobody has talked in a while. Everyone seems to be respecting the silence, so of course it’s Danny that breaks it. “You’re doing it all wrong,” he says, matter of fact.

“What?” Steve mutters the question under his breath so he doesn’t move his lips too much. He’s even more keenly aware of the gun strapped to his ankle than he was a moment ago.

“Not you,” Danny tells him, and Steve feels some relief, but most of all a sinking disappointment that Danny isn’t ragging on him this time. 

He thinks maybe he should look into that later, when he isn’t in the middle of an undercover op. Maybe he should knock his own head against the wall a couple of times until things go back to normal, just to be sure. Maybe.

He also thinks that maybe this _is_ normal, because he’s been through the ringer recently and he now he wants Danny’s attention all to himself even more than usual, but he doesn’t linger on that thought too much.

“Catherine,” Danny continues, “I know you’re better than this.”

It’s admirable how genuine Catherine keeps the smile on her face while she replies. “Yeah? It would help if you told me what it is that I’m doing so wrong.”

“The flirting,” Danny says, and Steve maybe sits up a little bit straighter without meaning to. “I’ll admit Steve’s attempts are somewhat lackluster, but you’re not giving him anything to work with.”

Steve feels a little more defensive than the situation possibly warrants. It might be fueled by how uncomfortable he is with this topic in its entirety, in their current situation, and with his current companions. “We don’t need to flirt. We’re supposed to be married.”

“Married couples flirt, Steve.” Steve can vividly imagine the way Danny’s hands are talking, too, but Danny doesn’t need anyone to see him to convey how thoroughly unimpressed he is. “Either that, or they fight, but you’re doing neither. Flirting is easier, so you should go with that, but Catherine’s body language is all wrong.”

“Does it matter?” Steve asks, even though he already knows the answer.

It should be physically impossible, but Steve could swear he hears Danny’s eyes roll anyway. “Yes, obviously, it does. If anyone looks at you, they’ll think you’re being weird. You’ll attract unwanted attention.” Steve would like to argue further, but Danny has a point.

Catherine leans back in her chair so her shoulders press into Steve’s arm. He hadn’t even noticed that she was sitting forward all this time. “Better?” she asks.

“A little. Maybe put your hand on his thigh.”

“Danny, that’s pretty intimate,” Catherine says, and for some reason she sounds close to laughter. Steve turns his head to get a look at her face, but he doesn’t have much time to study it before a hand lands on his leg and he embarrassingly jumps a bit. When he looks down, he’s relieved to find that it’s her right hand touching him, this time.

Danny tssks, like he’s channeling his inner disapproving teacher. “Don’t complain, Cath. It’s a very nice thigh. Many people would feel privileged if they were allowed to touch that thigh the way you are right now.”

“Just to be clear, who is flirting with whom, here?” Harry drawls, clearly amused. His British accent is a bit of a shock. Steve had honestly forgotten there was anyone but Cath and Danny listening in.

Steve leans into Cath a little more on pure instinct. He’s confused and feeling strangely out of his element for an operation that he thought they had in the bag, and she’s a warm and familiar body close to his.

He wants to take charge of this situation again. What his mouth comes up with doesn’t really translate that idea into action, sadly. “Hey Danno, you got any pointers for me?”

“Nah, babe,” Danny says. “You’re doing great. Keep it up.”

Catherine coughs. It’s so random that it’s a bit suspect, but by the time Steve glances over at her, her face doesn’t reveal anything out of the ordinary. “You can keep coaching me, if you want,” she offers.

Danny makes a humming sound, like he’s considering it. “You should twirl your hair more. He likes that.”

“I do?” Steve asks, perplex at this theory Danny presents like it’s an established fact.

Cath turns a little so most her back is still touching his arm, but they’re more face to face. She smiles at him and winds a strand of her long, expertly curled dark hair around her index finger. 

He probably stares a bit while he’s hit with some very confused arousal. He’s always thought he was at least vaguely aware of his own kinks, but apparently there have been even more attentive students.

“You’re right,” Cath says, smile turning into a grin, and it takes him a moment to realize she’s talking to Danny, not to him. “Do you use this a lot to your own advantage, Danny?”

Danny scoffs. “Please, Cath, my hair does not let itself be _twirled_. I pay more than enough for the product I use that I should hope my hair is being prevented from even thinking about doing anything that resembles a twirl.”

“Shame. I bet the messy look could work out very well for you.” The way she says it makes it sound like pretty innocent, friendly teasing, but her eyes are on Steve the whole time. It’s like she’s saying the words to Danny, but she’s talking to him, and he has no idea how to feel about that.

He looks away from her and clears his throat. It’s a lot harder to clear his mind, which insists on not just painting unhelpfully detailed pictures of what Cath suggested, but also adding some details she decidedly did not mention. It’s ridiculous. There is absolutely no reason Danny would have to be naked for his hair to be messed up.

“Sir,” Junior says, and Steve would very much like to sink through the floor at the reminder that Junior is still here and is witnessing all of this, too. Junior’s presence is not even that bad, but he’ll relay everything to Tani, which could prove far more troublesome. “The target is on the move. He’s on his own. I think he’s heading for the bathroom.” 

All wistful floor-related thoughts are forgotten, just like that. Steve looks over at where he last saw their target to confirm, which means Catherine is out of her chair before he is. She holds out her right hand to him, and he must look at it a little more doubtfully than he strictly intended, because she makes an impatient gesture with her hand, while still offering it to him. 

“Come on, it’s not that scary,” she cajoles. “Hold it. Do it for Danny.”

He takes her hand, but he’ll swear up and down that those last four words had nothing to do with it whatsoever.

“I’m flattered,” Danny says.

Steve doesn’t challenge his assumption. They have a wealthy businessman to interrogate, after all, and he has to focus on the mission.

*

Their interrogation yields the intel they were lacking, which means the operation is successful. So is the one after that, where they storm Omar Hassan’s hiding place, which turns out to have been a building in the garden. It’s ridiculously convenient, but it appears to have been true dumb luck, not some kind of new conspiracy. There’s nothing lucky about the way Hassan draws a weapon as soon as they lay eyes on him, but Steve is faster at pulling the trigger, and that’s that.

He doesn’t know how to feel about that. He has a hunch that it’s probably the kind of thing he will have to talk about, eventually, and he’s already dreading it. For now, he clings to the satisfaction that closing a case always gives him, even if that satisfaction muddled when everything about the matter is as personal and messy as this.

A positive point about this not being an official Five-0 case is that they can leave most of the cleanup and paperwork to the local police. They make their way back to the hotel, Steve and Cath still in their fancy getups. Harry drives and Junior is in the back of the van, already booking flights for all of them to their respective homes. Steve doesn’t feel like celebrating much, and everyone seems to have come to a wordless understanding about it.

At the hotel, Steve showers and changes back into more casual clothes, but he only realizes that he’s still wearing the silver ring that fake married him to Catherine when he’s about to leave. He takes it off and it’s like a weight is lifted. 

The reaction is so strong that he almost feels bad for it, until he looks up and catches Catherine smiling at him. They’re in the lobby of the hotel, where she’s seeing him off because her flight doesn’t leave until late that night. Harry already left two hours ago, headed for a different plane, and Junior is outside to get their rental car and bring it around to the front of the building. Danny said he would check them out of their rooms, and he did go over to the counter, but Steve is pretty sure he finished up quickly and is now just hanging around on the other side of the lobby to give Steve and Cath some space. The way Danny is fiddling with his phone supports Steve’s theory.

“You know,” Catherine says, bringing him back to the present and the tiny silver band he holds between his fingers, “last time we met, I said it was great we could talk about things like normal friends do, but I still thought this would be much more awkward.”

He’s not sure if he can say the same. He didn’t think much about it, probably, when they formulated the plan. At that point, he just wanted to get the talking over with and get to the doing, but she’s right that making two exes who once very nearly got engaged pretend to be married is not the safest idea ever. “It couldn’t be helped,” he says. “We needed a couple. You were the only woman on our team.”

She doesn’t even try to suggest that they could have sidelined him and sent someone else in with her instead. It proves that she does still know him, on some fundamental level. “You don’t always need a woman to have a couple,” she says instead.

He can’t help it. He knows he’s being a fool, and a very transparent one at that, but his eyes shoot to Danny. Danny somehow, through some impossible sixth sense or telepathy that connects them, knows Steve is looking at him the moment it happens. He puts away his phone – he was probably texting Grace, Steve thinks, feeling a corner of his cracked heart warm at just the thought of seeing her and Charlie again – and starts to make his way towards Steve and Cath.

“But I think you already know that,” Cath says, in that same way she had earlier, during the mission, where there’s absolutely laughter hidden in her voice.

It takes Steve a second to recall what that was in reference to (couples, and how they don’t necessarily need to consist of people of different genders), but when he does, it doesn’t make him nearly as nervous as he thinks it maybe should. It’s pretty obvious what she’s implying, but he’s okay with that. “Yeah,” he says, still watching Danny approach. Danny’s grinning at him now. “Maybe.”

When Danny reaches them, he taps Steve’s bicep. It’s a simple, aimless gesture, but Steve lives for that ease. “You ready to go, babe?” Danny asks, none the wiser.

God, is he ever. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Hey, Steve,” Cath says, to stop him before he’s even a step away. She holds up her hand, palm up, and he looks between it and her face with a feeling of dread. 

“I don’t think-”

She shakes her head at him before he can embarrass either of them. “The ring, buddy. I need to return it.”

He looks at Danny, because that’s what he usually does when he’s confused. Danny shrugs at him.

“Oh.” Things click. He digs the ring up from his pants pocket, where he’d put it somewhere over the past couple of minutes and immediately forgotten it even existed. He drops it into her waiting hand, and it’s not like a weight lifts, this time, but like a door closes. It has been open just a crack for a long time now, and it’s good to once and for all get rid of that draft that has been bothering him. There’s a sense of finality to it, but also an unexpected comfort.

He catches Cath’s eye and he’s pretty sure she feels it, too. She looks a little sad, and just the simple fact that she’s allowing him to see that is a sign that they’re moving back into the friendship they once had and away from all the messy stuff that their relationship dumped on top of it once the romance crashed and burned.

“I’m really glad we get to have this,” he tells her, with feeling.

She doesn’t ask what he means by that. “Yeah.” She sounds a little choked up, but it’s gone when she continues. “I am, too. It’s good to know you’re going to be okay. I’m glad you’re not alone anymore.”

“Take care, Cath.” He opens his arms and she accepts the hug. She presses her face to his shoulder, just briefly, and he buries his nose in her hair. She still uses the same shampoo, but it doesn’t do the things to him that it once did. 

They step back at the same time. “You, too,” she tells him. 

She hugs Danny as well, and then heads for the elevators to get back to her room. She waves at them one last time as the metal doors slide shut, which is when he realizes, for the first time, that he hadn’t seen her ring on her finger since just after they cornered the party host in the men’s bathroom.

“Junior will probably be waiting,” Danny points out. He bends to pick up his weekend bag, but Steve is quicker and snatches it from right under Danny’s hand. He doesn’t have any luggage of his own, anyway.

“Wow,” Danny says. “Manners, or something almost resembling that. Where did those come from?”

“I was feeling inspired,” Steve quips back. He hopes the way he throws his free arm around Danny’s shoulders is casual, or something close enough to it to pass. Whether the manages it or not, Danny reciprocates by slipping an arm of his own around Steve’s middle as Steve starts leading him towards the exit.

And talk about inspired – because of their height difference, Steve has a pretty good view of Danny’s hair when he’s this close. He could definitely get his fingers tangled up in there. He’s tempted to try it out, muss that perfect hairdo up, but for once, he doesn’t want Danny to yell at him right this second. He files away the impulse for a later date with a hopefully better moment, and instead gives in to a different desire just as they step outside, into a sunlight that is considerably weaker than what they have at home.

“I love you,” he says. He feels self-conscious about it in a way he hasn’t in a long time, but he needs to taste the words. He trusts Danny won’t let him fall. Saying it twice in one day might be a bit much, and holding off on the buddies and pals he usually tacks on also feels like a gamble, but in a way that’s exhilarating far more than anything else.

It’s a bet that works out for him, anyhow. Danny doesn’t give him a long, considering look this time, and not only because he’s searching the rows of cars and taxis lined up to the curb for their rental. He tightens his arm around Steve’s waist for a moment and answers in a voice that’s not soft in volume or conviction, but very, very much so in feeling. “I love you too, babe.” 

And, Steve thinks, whatever else happens – that’s a damn good starting point, and maybe also a nice middle. It’s possible there’s even a happy end hidden in there.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, I am very curious to hear what you think of it. ❤
> 
> I'm on Tumblr (as long as it still lives) as [itwoodbeprefect](https://itwoodbeprefect.tumblr.com), or with my exclusively H50 sideblog as [itwoodbeprefect](https://itwoodbeprefect.tumblr.com).


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